


The Fury of Cybertron

by wicked3659



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Erinyes, Genderbending, Knightformers, M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-04-23 16:29:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4883800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wicked3659/pseuds/wicked3659
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jazz is a member of Iaconian royalty and finds a dishevelled and beaten stranger on the outskirts of her city and decides to help. A decision that changes her life in ways she never imagined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In the Beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vejiraziel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vejiraziel/gifts).



_It is said that the Erinyes can feel your spark pulsing from a thousand Meta kliks away. They have terrible wings and ungodly powers. When they have your scent, they follow you until you're alone and snatch you from the ground with their dagger like claws, carrying you into the sky, to their lair. Never to be seen again._

_They are stronger, faster than the greatest warriors and racers. Even the first Primes could not defeat them. It is only by piercing the Erinyes' spark with a specially crafted energon blade can their power be taken from them and they can be destroyed._

_The Erinyes unleashed their fury upon the world and were beaten back by the bravest warriors. Those of pure spark were the only ones who could defeat the furies and their magic. Many were lost but the darkness was driven from this world. It is said that some still wander the wastelands between the cities and that is why you must never venture out beyond the city walls. Sparkling energon is especially tasty to the Erinyes so be careful, remain pure of spark and always look up._

__

_The Furies of Cybertron - tales of energon drinkers and other myths and legends._

_Youngling second grade edition_

********

His helm lifted from the sludge with a pained snarl and a clawed hand raked over the slurry of the ground. Golden optics flickered dimly as they tried to focus on the shimmering lights of Iacon before him. Energon he desperately needed energon. His attackers had taken him by surprise and in his weakened state he had not been able to defend himself adequately. He had managed to tear the spark out of the chest of one, however and that had caused the others to flee. He then had collapsed into the mud and had lost track of how long he had lain face down in the sludge.

The thundering had roused him. His sensitive audios had picked up the approaching thunder and fearing another attack, he was trying to drag himself off the beaten path to a nearby ditch.

"Halt, whooa," a stern voice called out.

Claws tightened into a fist as footsteps drew closer. "Your majesty, this one is alive but hurt badly."

"Medic, I need your help," a femme's voice sounded and the injured mech flinched when gentle hands were suddenly, carefully helping him to lie on his back.

"Princess, maybe we should wa--"

"--until this mech's spark gutters?" Came the tart reply. "He needs our help. What kind of Princess would I be if I let a mech's life energon bleed out on my land when it was within my power to help him?"

"Princess. .." The injured mech croaked, his face smeared with sludge and dried energon. His optics tried to focus on the silver visage before him but all he could process was the brilliant azure of that distinctive visor.

"Hey there, try not to move," the femme's soft voice spoke.  Her fingers brushed the injured mech's cheek and wiped away some of the stains revealing handsome, almost regal features. "We'll get you fixed up."

Another mech crouched down opposite the Princess but she did not look away from the golden optics that seemed transfixed on her. "Medic, prepare him for transport. Put him in the carriage with me. See he is given the best care."

"As you decree it, m'lady, Jazz," the medic bowed his helm and set to work.

The rest moved in a blur for the injured mech and he couldn't help crying out when he was moved. He heard the femme's lilting voice beside him once more and felt her warm, delicate fingers brushing his chevron, attempting to soothe him. His consciousness finally slipped from him and the carriage lurched forward on its journey towards Iacon.

****

“I heard you picked up a stray on your trip home,” the deep tenor was filled with amusement as patient optics watched his progeny confidently stride through the hall towards him.

Jazz came to a stop just before his feet and dropped to one knee, bowing her helm and placing her arm across her chest in a sign of greeting. “Prime, Sire, you would have done the same thing.”

Optimus’ laugh echoed through the hall and he placed a hand on his daughter’s helm. “Jazz, rise, you know you need not bow to me.”

“I am Commander of your armies, I will bow to you as long as you stand before me,” she smiled as she stood and stepped closer to embrace the larger mech. “I have missed you, Sire.”

“And I you, my princess. What news do you bring me of Vos, Tarn and Kaon?”

Jazz shook her helm, her visor dimming, before flipping up, disappearing into her armoured helm, revealing her bright cerulean optics. “There is unrest in Kaon. Megatron will not stand against you but Starscream, his vizier, he… I do not trust him.”

“Megatron does not want a war. He will negotiate for peaceful trade, I am certain of it,” Optimus reassured the younger femme. “Now please do tell me about our unexpected guest.”

Jazz threw her Sire a grin and shrugged casually. “Couldn’t just leave the mech by the side of the road. He was beaten pretty badly. There was another guttered mech’s shell beside him.”

Optimus hummed thoughtfully. “Steelcross tells me that he found the remains of a half crushed spark chamber in the hand of the mech you rescued.”

Jazz frowned and clenched her fists. “If I was being beaten, I would do anything I could to get them to stop. Any one would. I don’t think he’s a threat. At least not to us.”

Optimus nodded and guided Jazz to their living area, away from the occasional wandering noble of their court. “That remains to be seen, my princess. He would certainly have a challenge facing down your wrath,” he chuckled, playfully pinching a helm horn. “Come let us take our energon together, it has been too long and then perhaps we can pay a visit to our guest and see what he has to say for himself, hm?” he smiled at his daughter warmly.

Jazz ducked her helm and swatted her father’s hand away playfully, before settling into his side with a purr of affection, his arm curled loosely about her shoulders. “That sounds like a plan to me.”

****

Optimus regarded the mech in the in the guest room curiously as he stepped inside. His field was tight, unreadable and he held himself proudly, regally, not unlike a ruler would. When he turned to face him, Optimus noticed his golden optics. They were unusual in themselves, he had only heard of them being found in descendents from the lost city of Praxus. He wasn’t sure there were any left. “My medics believe you will make a full recovery. They are quite impressed by your own healing abilities and self repair systems.”

The mech acknowledged the comment with a bow of his helm.

Optimus continued unfazed. “What is your name?”

“Who is asking?” came the even, soft spoken reply.

“I am Optimus Prime, the ruler of Iacon and last of the Primes of Cybertron.”

The mech’s sensor panels flared on his back and he instantly dropped to one knee, bowing his helm, his arm firmly across his chest. “Prime, forgive me, I have been out of touch, I did not recognise you.”

Optimus was surprised by the response, no civilian would know to react so formally. The mech was potentially military if not of noble lineage himself. “Tell me your name, stranger.”

“I am Prowl. I have no recognised title,” he kept his helm bowed as he spoke.

“Where are you from?”

“Tarn. I was part of Lord Shockwave’s house before I renounced my position and sought my fortune in the world,” it was mostly true, details weren’t important to a Prime.

“Prowl of Tarn, please rise. We do have an alliance with Tarn, would you like me to send communique to Lord Shockwave, informing him of your safety?”

Prowl rose slowly and thought about the Prime’s question. “It is not necessary, thank you, Prime.”

Optimus didn’t push the matter further. What went on within another family’s house was a private affair. “My daughter, Jazz, seems quite curious about you and how you ended up so badly injured on the outskirts of our city.”

“It was a surprise attack, I do not think they were from Iacon,” Prowl answered with a slight frown.

“Nevertheless, my guards will be patrolling to ensure the safety of all Iacon’s inhabitants and its visitors.”

“Your daughter…” Prowl hesitated, “she is the Princess who rescued me?”

“The very same, Jazz has a pure spark and would not have seen any mech suffer.”

Prowl dropped to his knee once more and bowed. “Then I am in her debt, Prime, I offer my skills as a soldier and my loyalty to your house, in gratitude.”

Optimus was bemused by the mech’s formality but was touched by the gesture. “I only wish for my daughter’s continued safety. I accept your gesture, I will inform the Captain of the Guard to commence your training. You will be able to live in the barracks of the palace for as long as you remain in my service. I ask that you first rest, you have been through quite an ordeal and I am certain that my daughter will visit and tire you with incessant questioning,” he smiled behind his mask and bowed his helm slightly. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Prowl of Tarn. I am sure we will meet again.”

“Prime,” Prowl got to his feet once more as the larger mech left and he turned to look out of the window, overlooking the great city of Iacon. His optics didn’t waver as a small silica bat flapped its wings, flew through a small opening and fluttered around his helm, before settling upside down, hanging from the corner of one of his sensor panels. Its small squeaky clicks didn’t go unnoticed by Prowl who glanced at the creature with a subtle smile and gently rubbed its middle with a finger. “It appears we have found a new home for the time being,” he murmured softly, gazing out across the city with thoughtful optics.

 


	2. Family

In a relatively short time, Prowl built himself a reputation as a member of the Prime’s guard. His unassuming, reserved nature endeared him to the Captain of the Guard and his skills in combat and battle planning had many of the other members of the guard wanting to train with and fight alongside him.

He was a natural leader, although reluctant to take up that mantle but did take a couple of the younger soldiers under his proverbial wing. He offered guidance and structure to the pair of twins; Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, who otherwise may have gotten themselves thrown out of the guard for rattling too many other mechs’ cages. They were hot headed, aggressive and narcissistic, not attractive qualities in a guardsmech of the Prime. Prowl taught them how to hone their impressive hand to hand combat skills and also how to use their aggression and narcissism to their advantage. He never judged them, only ever offering advice when they stepped out of line and training, helping them mature as they also climbed through the ranks.

A consequence of this, Prowl discovered, was their unquestionable loyalty to him. They had even gotten injured in a battle with Kaon’s army, trying to protect him from an ambush. That had earned them a disgruntled rebuke but they persisted nonetheless. Prowl had rarely seen such loyalty, even in his long life and so let them be; neither discouraging nor encouraging their behaviour. In truth, he was honoured and quite touched by the gesture. It was certainly not one to be taken lightly.

As well as the twins, Prowl had also grown closer to the Princess herself. He often trained with her and sparred with her, much to her frustration, as she had yet to best him in a fight. He soon became Jazz’s favourite choice to lead her own protection detail, when travelling in envoys and the two of them had started talking and sharing more about each other when they managed to find time alone. It had started off as friendship and had gradually blossomed into a yearning and desire for something more that neither of them was ready to admit out loud. A relationship between royalty and a soldier was forbidden after all.

Prowl was no stranger to desire. He knew Jazz had started flirting with him on and off the sparring mat but he kept himself at a respectful distance. It was difficult because he was drawn to Jazz in ways he hadn’t felt for a lifetime. Their talks were insightful, witty and her company was enjoyable and soothing and despite himself, Prowl had grown increasingly fond of the Princess. When she had started stealing soft, subtle touches of his hand, a sensor panel, here and there, Prowl had known then he was doomed to follow her anywhere she desired.

Still, no matter his affections, he never allowed himself to do more than to hold the Princess’s hand or embrace her when she needed the comfort. He knew his reservations only served to frustrate her because he would not, could not explain why he couldn’t give her more, despite Jazz never asking the question. Prowl had known the question was there, however, had seen it in her enchanting optics, on the rare occasions she had revealed them to him. The contact they shared, no matter how brief, had to be enough. For nobody ever fell in love with a monster.

****

Despite refusing to take command of his own unit, command was instead cruelly thrust upon him when the Captain of the Guard was killed in an unprovoked attack during a peace envoy. They had been trying to negotiate with Megatron’s forces, only to find that the mech hadn’t been in control for some time. He had in fact been deposed by none other than Starscream. Rumour had it that Megatron had been almost killed and was now in hiding, thanks to some of his loyalists.

Only one mech had returned from the peace envoy and he had delivered a message to Optimus Prime. War. Starscream didn’t want peace, he wanted Iacon, he wanted to rule Cybertron and he was already starting by conquering Kaon’s neighbouring city states.

It angered Prowl that such a mech could be so cowardly. He had been in Tarn, strengthening the alliance between their two cities, which was why he hadn’t been sent on the envoy. He terrified the messenger sent from Iacon with his brief outpouring of rage and had crushed the datapad in his fist, before returning to his meeting with Shockwave and Soundwave.

“What is it?” Shockwave asked with a frown, knowing Prowl well enough to recognise the signs of unrest.

“Kaon has declared war on Iacon and I have been promoted to Captain of the Guard and officially recalled back to the city,” Prowl declared, his voice barely above a snarl. “I must take my leave, Shockwave.”

Shockwave nodded. “You have our loyalty, we will fight with you,” he declared resolutely. “You can tell that to the Prime.”

Prowl bowed his helm respectfully, sparing Soundwave a glance before turning on his heel and marching from the room.

“Kaon is powerful,” Soundwave stated quietly.

“True.”

“Prowl rejected us once, how can you be sure he will not run from this too?”

“He will not allow himself to, he is bound by duty and it is the only thing Prowl has ever allowed himself to be bound by,” Shockwave replied, pride evident in his voice. “This bitterness you hold for your brother, is not becoming Soundwave. I made you both, his difficulty in accepting what you both are is not something to hate,” Shockwave regarded the younger mech with fondness in his field. “You are brothers bound by energon and powers beyond mortal understanding. No matter your misgivings, your loyalties are with each other. Or I have taught you nothing.”

Soundwave bowed his helm remorsefully and dimmed his red visor. “You have my loyalty, always,” he murmured softly. “But I cannot willfully give my loyalty to someone who turned his back on me, on us.”

“He was young, he was hurting, Soundwave. As were you. Time is a great healer, perhaps he has changed and the crystal surrounding his spark has softened. You have a responsibility not to let your bitterness harden yours.”

  
“Yes, Sire,” Soundwave responded respectfully.


	3. Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy thanksgiving to all those who celebrate it :)

Upon his return to Iacon, Prowl was greeted by the Princess herself. He bowed respectfully, though their interactions had developed from the mostly formal to the overly familiar. “Prime?”

“He’s not happy,” the femme replied softly. “And he’s still sick. He’s in no state to be handling this right now,” Jazz frowned deeply. “Tarn?”

“They swear allegiance to Iacon. They will fight with us should we call for aid,” Prowl responded, stepping closer to the Princess. “Your father’s condition has not improved then?” he asked softly.

Jazz averted her gaze from Prowl. “He was already succumbing before this…” she shook her helm. “Prowl, if I lose him--”

“--You will be a courageous and just leader in his stead,” he declared, gently wrapping his arms about her and holding her tantalisingly close to his body.

Jazz smirked faintly and gazed up at Prowl. “Why have you always had such unwavering faith in me?”

Prowl flared his sensor panels subtly. “I owe my life to you, Princess,” he bowed his helm respectfully.

Smile fading at the formal answer, Jazz stepped back, freeing herself from Prowl’s comforting embrace, her field tightening. “Wrong answer,” she murmured softly before speaking up more loudly. “Father wants to see you, in his chambers,” she declared curtly before turning on her heel and sweeping away, leaving a mildly bewildered Prowl staring after her.

His interactions with the Princess often left him bemused. The Princess was short tempered and feisty but full of passion and care. Her spark was honest and pure and Prowl had found himself drawn to it since the cycle they had met. Since then he had been instrumental in training Jazz in hand to hand combat and helping hone her swordsmanship. She was an incredibly powerful fighter for one of such small stature but was too easily frustrated when she couldn’t win. On many occasions, she had lost her cool with him as she had yet to best him in a sparring match. Prowl had only grown confused when he had faced all her wrath the one cycle he allowed her to win. It hadn’t been obvious but Jazz’s keen senses and optics had seen it and called him on it. Despite his confusion, he had vowed never to lie to her again. Being on the receiving end of Jazz’s wrath was not a place he desired to be.

Since his arrival in Iacon he had taken up the unofficial role of Jazz’s bodyguard, primarily at Optimus’s and then at Jazz's official request. He had fought with the Princess, trained with the Princess and watched her mature and grow from a young impetuous Princess with a warrior’s spark, to one whose passion was now tempered by wisdom and intuition as the weight of leadership was gradually passed onto her shoulders. They had grown inevitably closer during his time in Iacon but Prowl had been careful to maintain a respectful distance. When they sparred, he could practically feel the life energon pumping through her body and primal urges he had not felt in vorns had awakened. Revealing his true self would do more harm than good. He did not want to drive the Princess away, nor did he desire to become a hunted monster once more. The distance he kept was the best for them both, he did not want to hurt her. The inappropriate yearning for more had however worked its way deeper into his spark.

Prowl forced his thoughts of Jazz to the back of his processor, there were now more important and worrying matters afoot. Optimus was a sick mech. Ever since his bonded had faded into the well, before Prowl’s arrival, he had been troubled with ailments of the spark. He was fading, slowly. He had admitted only once to Prowl that he was waiting until Jazz was truly ready to become queen before passing and he was glad that someone of Prowl’s skill was present to protect her as their enemies closed in around them.

Entering the chambers, Prowl’s optics dimmed. His finely tuned senses picked up the scent of a dying spark. Its embers were shedding invisibly into the air around them. He knew Optimus was a mech not long for this world and it made his spark ache. The fleeting lives of mortals was a treasure and a curse.

“Prowl, you have heard the news,” Optimus stated softly.

Prowl nodded and waited for the Prime to continue.

“I called you here because I wanted to make your promotion official.”

Upon hearing that, Prowl moved to stand before the Prime and knelt down onto one knee.

Optimus smiled and placed a hand on Prowl’s helm. “Prowl of Tarn, I hereby name you Captain of the Guard. Sworn to protect and fight for Iacon and its inhabitants and to ensure the safety of Iacon’s ruler to the betterment of all Cybertron.” Optimus regarded the mech before him. “Please rise, Prowl.”

Prowl did as he was told and stood before his leader expectantly.

“I know of your affections towards my daughter,” Optimus declared softly, amusement tugging at his lips as the mech took a step back, optics brightening at his words. “Do not be alarmed. I am nothing if not an observant mech, Prowl. Whatever debt you hold yourself to, for her saving your life, is paid in full, but can you promise me that you will protect her spark as though it were your own?”

Prowl stilled at the Prime’s words and hesitated before responding. For a mech like him, a monster, a fury, it wasn’t a promise to be given lightly. “I will protect her in life and in death. This life and the next. You have my solemn eternal vow, Optimus Prime,” he bowed his helm as he spoke, his arm pressing across his chest.

Optimus nodded and moved to sit on his nearby berth as he regarded Prowl curiously. “Your words warm my spark. I had hoped to one cycle meet one of your kind, I never thought I would be so close to one.”

“Prime?” Prowl canted his helm, dread curling about his spark.

“Erinyes,” Optimus stated simply, holding Prowl’s gaze.

Tension took hold of Prowl’s frame and he stiffened, unsure what to do. He had been discovered. He would not lie to the mech who had shown him such favour. “What do you wish of me?” he asked, his voice low, barely above a growl.

“What I wish of you, you have given,” Optimus replied with a warm smile. “You have nothing to fear from me, as I know I have nothing to fear from you. I ask that you show yourself to me, however, your true form. Who you really are.”

Prowl stilled and glanced around the chambers. They were alone and Prime had long since locked the main door. Bowing his helm, his optics offlined and plating began to shift and transform.

Optimus watched in awe with bright optics as two massive wings unfolded on Prowl’s back, the claws on his hands grew long, until they were almost talons and his face transformed into something simultaneously terrible and beautiful. His red chevron elongated until the points were like horns crowning his helm and fangs protruded from his upper jaw, long and deadly. His golden optics shone like stars and burned into Optimus’ spark. “Is Prowl your true name?”

“Yes, Prime,” Prowl replied, his voice no longer soft and even. It was the voice of a being older than Optimus could fathom, the sound of a low rumbling growl, akin to distant thunder rolling across the heavens and the purr of a deadly, confident predator.

Optimus nodded in understanding as Prowl transformed into his familiar self. “I know now why you hide. I hope that one cycle, it will not always be this way. I thank you for staying by my daughter’s side. I can go to the well now, in peace. Please find my daughter, it is time.”

****

Prowl looked up when Jazz exited her father’s chambers, she nodded to the medic silently and her visored optics lingered on Prowl before she marched past him. He could see the pain etched onto her face and even despite knowing he might not be welcome, he followed her anyway.

Upon entering her private chambers, Jazz turned sharply, halting Prowl in his path. “Don’t. Just don’t,” she uttered sharply.

Prowl frowned. Her voice was unsteady, her field erratic, she was barely holding it together and it made his own spark ache. He had experienced enough loss in his lifetime to know it never got any easier. Shaking his helm, he closed the distance between them and tugged her into a tight embrace.

Jazz barely whimpered in protest and buried her helm against Prowl’s chest, her fingers curling into his armour, holding him tightly.

Prowl only tightened his hold as Jazz keened softly, her body trembling with grief. Slowly, still holding her they sank to the floor and he gently stroked her helm until she fell into a fitful recharge in his lap. His watchful gaze studied the Princess as she slept, his clawed fingers brushing over her cheek ever so lightly. It was a terrible burden she now bore, but he knew she had the strength of spark to see it through. Carefully, he curled his arms beneath her slight frame and lifted her. She murmured softly as he carried her to her berth and laid her down, covering her with a thin blanket. Prowl only let his gaze linger on her face for a klik before he turned away but a touch to his hand stopped him from leaving. Glancing back over his shoulder, he met the Princess’s dim gaze.

Jazz retracted her visor that she wore almost constantly now and held Prowl’s curious optics. “Stay with me?” she whispered, knowing she was asking a lot and that it very likely encroached onto Prowl’s dutiful sensibilities. At the mech’s hesitation, she let her hand slip from his and turned her helm away with a soft sigh. Much to Jazz’s surprise, instead of being left alone to grieve, she felt the berth shift beneath Prowl’s weight as he lay beside her without a word. Turning to face him, Jazz allowed herself a small grateful smile and curled up beside him, tucked into his side.

Venting a soft, resigned sigh, Prowl shifted and made himself more comfortable, curling his arms about the Princess once more.

“Thank you,” Jazz murmured softly.

Prowl simply gave her an affectionate squeeze and pressed a soft kiss to her helm. “Rest, my Princess,” he murmured quietly.

Jazz felt her spark flutter at his words, despite the pain of her grief. “You’ll be here, when I wake?”

“Always.”


	4. Forbidden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jazz learns the truth and makes a difficult decision.

The attacks began in earnest following the news of Optimus’ passing. Starscream wasted no time. He wasn’t going to wait for Jazz to finish grieving, this was when he could make the most ground. The Princess was distracted and hurting. It was an advantage not to be squandered. 

Much to Iacon’s relief, Jazz’s grief turned into rage at the blatant disrespect for the last of the Prime’s and the now crowned Queen of Iacon joined her armies in riding out to meet Starscream’s forces and push them back from Iacon’s borders. 

Prowl remained dutifully by the Queen’s side. He had argued against Jazz being in the battle field but she was not to be suaded otherwise. Her place was with her people fighting for her people. Prowl admired her passion yet feared for her spark. Rage was a powerful force, one that could utterly destroy the kind, compassionate femme, Optimus had so desperately wanted to protect. With that in mind, Prowl had insisted that he remain with the Queen, jointly leading her army with her, as her captain so that he could both, protect her and fight for her. Not that she needed much in the way of protection. The Queen was a formidable fighter, ruthless and relentless and in a short time had earned herself a fearsome reputation that pierced the sparks of her enemies.

And on the outskirts of Iacon, in the middle of their biggest battle to date, Prowl found himself, fighting side by side with his Queen. Energon splattered their frames, some of it their own. Starscream had managed to cut through the elite guard’s defences, leaving Jazz, Prowl and a small contingent of soldiers separated from the main fight. It had been a cunning, devious move and had even caught Prowl by surprise. He was furious at the deception and subsequent trap they now found themselves in. They were surrounded and being bombarded from above by seekers and one by one, the soldiers around them were picked off. Prowl was fast but he could not be in two places at once. They were trying to separate him from Jazz and slowly but surely it was working as he tried to help one of his guardsmech. 

Her cry of pain and anger pierced his audio like a knife and he whirled around in time to see a large hulking frame of a seeker appear as if from thin air and grab the queen roughly. He rushed forward, swords drawn, leaping in the air as the mech started to shimmer out of his field of view. The seeker had a warping mod and Prowl knew he had to reach him before he vanished completely lest he lose the Queen for good. His swords sliced through plating, causing the warping mod to explode in a shower of sparks as Prowl landed and the seeker screamed and dropped to the ground. 

Snarling the seeker smirked at Prowl, Jazz still firmly held in his massive claws and launched himself into the air. Prowl didn’t hesitate and leapt after him. In his hidden state, he could not fly but he still had the strength to jump high enough to catch the seeker’s leg. As they climbed higher into the sky, Prowl clawed his way up the seeker’s frame. It took all of his strength to hold on as the seeker spun and dove in an attempt to shake him off. The world seemed to spin around them as Prowl resorted to a final desperate measure, feeling his grip weakening as the seeker flew faster and higher and plunged his denta into the finer plating of the seeker’s wing. 

Screaming the seeker arched and released his prize and clawed at Prowl, managing to grab him by the chevron and rip him from his body, hurling him away. Watching the two plummet, the seeker snickered, ruby optics glowing in satisfaction as they vanished into the clouds and set course for Kaon. No bot could survive a fall from this altitude, Starscream would be pleased. 

Prowl acted on instinct as he felt the burning acid of the clouds surrounding him. Transforming he dove after the Queen, his wings beating fiercely as he gained on her, she was already so close to the ground. He grabbed Jazz’s limp form from behind, curled himself around her, twisting their frames so his would impact the ground first, even he wasn’t fast enough to avoid the ground at this speed, not when it was barely meters away. Even Erinyes could be killed. Prowl knew in his spark that a fall from such a height could be his undoing but he could still save Jazz. Iacon needed its Queen. Holding her tightly, Prowl offlined his optics and whispered a farewell into Jazz’s unconscious audio as the ground rushed up to meet them.

****

“Prowl!” Jazz called out, her helm was pounding and her entire body ached. She remembered the seeker that had plucked her from the ground and then she was sure she had been falling. Prowl had been with her, she remembered his voice in her audios. “Prowl!” she called out again, staggering to her feet. A low groan caught her attention and she scrambled towards it, calling out Prowl’s name again. “Prowl is that you?” she shifted some debris and gasped, falling backwards when she uncovered what was beneath. Jazz’s optics were bright behind her cracked visor and she could only stare at what could only be described as a nightmare lying on the ground. When it groaned again she frowned and dared to creep closer. There was something about its face, the colours of its frame, she jumped and froze when its optics onlined and fixed on her. 

“Jazz…” the creature growled, vocaliser spluttering with the effort. 

The voice, although different was clearly recognisable and Jazz could only stare at the monster with disbelief. “Prowl…?” she whispered. 

“You must go…” the fury uttered, trying to push himself up, only to fall back to the ground with a pained cry. Its entire frame shook with agony and energon spilled from numerous wounds. A wing hung limply on its back, broken and contorted into an unnatural shape. 

“Prowl? What are you?” Jazz asked, tentatively reaching out, only for Prowl to bat her hand away. 

“You must go! Your city needs you, Cybertron… needs you… I am too weak… I cannot transform and I cannot be seen like this. I would do anything to protect you, my queen so you must go... lest they catch you with me.”

“And what of you?” Jazz demanded hotly, kneeling down beside the mortally wounded Prowl. “Am I to just leave you here for cyberwolves or seekers? You’re injured, you need medical help.”

“No… it is my time. I cannot go on… please my queen, leave, your people need you.” 

“You need me you fraggin’ stubborn aft glitch of a monster,” Jazz spat out angrily. “Now we don’t have time to argue about this. What can I do, Prowl, what do you need?” she cupped his face, forcing him to look her in the optic.

“You would try to save me, despite knowing what I am?” Prowl asked with a whisper, disbelief evident on his face. 

Jazz smiled sadly and without hesitation leant over Prowl and pressed a kiss to his energon stained mouth. She hissed when she felt something sharp on her delicate lip plating and brought her fingers up to feel fresh energon beading on the surface. 

“Please… I cannot…” Prowl whispered, feebly trying to push her away. 

Her gaze fell on her energon stained fingers and realisation dawned on her. “Erinyes…” she stated, looking at Prowl. “You need to drink,” she declared, removing the armour protecting her throat.

Prowl stared at her with bright almost fearful optics. “Jazz… my queen… I could kill you, I do not trust myself.”

“I trust you, with my life. You won’t kill me, now drink, before the seekers realise we’re not dead.” 

“They will not suspect--”

“--They will now I’ve sent out a distress ping,” Jazz interrupted with a smirk. “So I really need you fighting fit, Prowl. I did not give you permission to deactivate yet, your service is not yet done.” 

Optics flickering, his spark pulsing harder and faster than it had done in eons, Prowl curled a clawed hand about Jazz’s helm. “As my lady commands,” he murmured. Brushing a thumb over her lips he hesitated for a klik before tugging her close, baring his fangs and plunging them into her neck. 

Jazz gasped and stiffened as she felt the initial pain. Then she only felt the warmth and euphoria from something in Prowl’s bite as he drank her life energon. She moaned softly as her spark pulsed faster in an attempt to compensate for the drain. She felt her frame shudder as Prowl’s glossa lavved over the open wound in her main energon line, drawing more fluid from her body. “Pr--Prowl…” she uttered weakly as she felt her spark straining and her body going cold. 

Once her energon had touched his lips, Prowl was intoxicated. Jazz tasted better than he had dreamt she would. He drank hungrily, lapping up every drop, he felt himself growing stronger and held the femme tightly to his frame as she shuddered in his arms. At her barely audible whisper of his name, Prowl tore himself away from Jazz with a roar. His body convulsed and twisted as his self healing took over and repaired the broken limbs and torn energon lines. He trembled and roared out to the sky, falling to all fours, panting heavily. Looking up he quickly rushed to Jazz’s side and gathered her up into his arms. “Jazz…”

“See… told you, you wouldn’t kill me,” Jazz breathed a shaking hand reaching up to caress his cheek. “My knight....” 

Prowl nodded. “Until my spark fades, my queen,” he murmured, carefully pressing his lips to hers. 

“Prowler… I need to rest,” she whispered when their kiss broke. 

Gathering her up carefully, tenderly into his arms, Prowl stretched out his wings and leapt into the air. “I will take you home.”

“You will remain by my side…” Jazz murmured sleepily. 

Prowl didn’t know if it was a command or a question but he felt compelled to answer anyway as he soared into the night cycle sky. “Always, my Jazz.” 

****

Jazz stared out of the window of her palace, her mouth pressed into a thin line. “They’re advancing their attacks into the city.”

Prowl stood behind her, a hand resting on the hilt of his sword. “They will not stop. Your army is ready to face them, my Queen.” 

“My father did not want war,” Jazz murmured softly, her visor dimming. 

“War is coming,” Prowl replied evenly.

Turning to the captain of her army, Jazz gazed at Prowl. “Is it one we can win?”

“I believe it is, but we must make a stand now, before it’s too late,” Prowl replied honestly. “Starscream’s forces are strong and determined, he is also persuasive and more than capable of turning your own people against you.”

“Only to control them, dominate them, turn them into slaves!” Jazz snapped angrily. 

“Those that are scared, often misjudge those who speak with soft words, presenting appealing ideals. Especially when their own circumstances are not so fortunate. Your people love you, they will stand with you, but you must make a stand.”

“It is not as simple as that,” Jazz countered, turning away from Prowl, her gaze falling onto the peaceful streets below. She stiffened when Prowl’s hand lightly brushed her arm, his body pressed against her back. 

“My Queen… Jazz, I know the decision to go to war is not an easy one,” he murmured into her audio. “But I have lived through many wars and I know Starscream will not stop until you are dead or worse and Iacon, Cybertron, is his to control. He does not want peace, he wants domination, it will not stop with you.”

Jazz couldn’t help the shudder that ran through her at the thought of worse. She turned her helm towards Prowl’s voice, leaning back into his strong embrace as an arm curled about her waist. 

“Your city, your people are ready to follow you, you only have to say the word,” Prowl continued softly. 

“Right now, I don’t want words,” Jazz murmured, her visor shimmering as she turned to face him. “I want you.” 

“I am yours,” Prowl growled out, tugging her flush to him as he kissed her deeply, passionately as though it was their last. With a low growl, he lifted the queen into his arms and carried her to her large berth. Laying her down gently, he pulled back, optics darkened as he drank in the sight. “I can’t like this.” 

“I want  _ you _ ,” Jazz repeated, her hands roaming slowly, enticingly over her own frame. 

Transforming, Prowl growled as he crawled over Jazz, his sharp claws tracing the smooth lines of her frame, teasing her. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m yours.”

“I could hurt you…” 

“I trust you, with my spark,” Jazz grabbed Prowl’s collar fairing and tugged him down for a heated kiss, glossa slipping into his mouth, exploring slowly, feeling the point of his fangs, moaning as the kiss was returned, deepened with intense fervour. 

Gathering Jazz up in his arms, Prowl lifted the queen up onto his lap as he sat back on the berth, his arms holding her tightly. Fingers and claws explored and teased and metal scraped against metal, creating sparks as electrical energy surged through them, crackling over them as groans and whimpers of pleasure filled the room. 

Jazz cried out and arched in Prowl’s arms when his hips rose up sharply, claiming her. Their bodies rocked together as one, their passion becoming more intense as they gave themselves to one another. Their pleasure wiped out everything else, all that mattered was that moment. After what seemed like an age, they collapsed, sated onto the berth, limbs entwined. 

Lying on Prowl’s larger frame, Jazz hummed. “I wish we could be like this all the time.”

Prowl squeezed her gently, his claws tracing lazy circles over her back. “Nobody can know, Jazz. Not only is it forbidden for a royal to fraternise with a soldier but I am a monster, an immortal, a fury.” 

“I know monsters, Prowl. Starscream is a monster, you are no monster,” Jazz insisted vehemently. 

Prowl smiled softly and kissed Jazz’s helm. “Your own history tells a different story. A millennium of planetary history will not be changed simply because a fury dared to love a queen,” he sighed and carefully extricated himself from Jazz’s tender embrace. “Besides, there are more pressing matters to face.” 

Jazz sat up on her berth and stared as the demon stretched out his wings. “Run or fight,” Jazz sighed, as Prowl turned to face her. “And if we lose?”

A faint smirk graced Prowl’s passive features, revealing the point of a sharp fang. “I do not intend to lose.”

“Arrogance?”

“Experience,” Prowl growled out softly, the backs of his fingers caressing Jazz’s faceplates. “I will remove the head of the beast.”

Visor brightening, Jazz curled her fingers into Prowl’s chest plating. “I could lose you…”

His optics softening, Prowl lifted her helm by the chin to look him in the optics. “That is always the possibility.”

“Erinyes… my monster with a spark,” Jazz stood and rested her helm on his chest, her visor dimming as she held the fury tightly. “Come back to me,” she whispered.

“I promise you that as long as it is within my power, I shall always return to you,” Prowl lifted Jazz’s helm with a single claw and brushed his lip components against hers, a low wanton growl rumbling through him. “My queen, my Jazz.” 

Jazz pressed flush to the creature as his mouth claimed hers with a passion filled kiss. She mewled as the kiss broke and Prowl pulled away, his little pet fluttered down from the ceiling and she smiled softly as Prowl gently lifted the bat from his wing and petted it between its ears. 

“You have a new duty now, my little friend.”

The little bat fluffed and peered up at Jazz from her hands, with large black eyes and canted its little head curiously. 

Jazz looked up at Prowl as he stepped away from her, changing back into his mech form. 

  
“I will return.” Prowl bowed deeply and gave her a rare warm smile before turning on his heel and sweeping out of the chamber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and happy holidays everybody. This story was a short one but I hope you enjoyed it :3

**Author's Note:**

> For Vejiraziel's birthday and based on her knightformers AU. This is my own interpretation of that fantasy world.  
> Happy birthday I hope you like it. <3
> 
> The concept of this story's Erinyes is loosely based upon the Greek mythology of the Erinyes:  
> The Erinyes (also known as Furies) were cruel earth goddesses who symbolized the divine vengeance. The Erinyes were three sisters in Greek mythology: Alecto("the angry"), Megaera("the grudging") and Tisiphone("the avenger").
> 
> The Creation of the Furies
> 
> The Furies were created from the blood of the Titan Uranus, when his son Cronus castrated him to take revenge on the loss of his siblings.  
> According to another legend, the Furies were the daughters of Nyx, who was the symbolization of the night and a daughter of Chaos.
> 
> The Role of the Furies
> 
> The Erinyes were persecuting crimes such as disrespect, injustice, perjury or arrogance and-first and foremost- murder, especially the murder inside a family. Their lust of punishment knew no bounds, for they kept punishing a sinner even after his death, until he finally would show remorse.
> 
> Appearance of the Furies
> 
> The Erinyes were dreadful creatures with appalling features. They had a burning breath and poisonous blood was dripping from their eyes. Their heads were wreathed with serpents.  
> The Roman name of Erinyes is "Furies"
> 
> Source: http://www.greek-gods.info/ancient-greek-gods/erinyes/


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